Avalon High by Meg Cabot Read Free Book Online Page A

the part about having been named for the main character in the poem.
    “Then the paper’ll be a cinch,” Lance said, brightening. “Just ask your mom what to say!”
    I stared at him. I couldn’t believe this was happening. And yet, at the same time, I sort of could. Which seemed to be how my life was going at Avalon High. Weird and yet strangely not weird.
    “Contrary to how you might do your homework,” I said, in a desperate effort to save myself from what I saw barreling down on me, knowing full well there was no escape, “I do my homework myself, without my parents’ help.”
    “This one’s shorter,” Lance said, taking the piece of paper from Skinny Neck’s fingers. “We’re doing it.”
    It was obvious there wasn’t going to be any discussion, much less arguing, over the issue. Lance had spoken. And what Lance says—it was perfectly clear, even to the new kid, namely me—goes.
    I’ll admit it. I was peeved. I’m sick of the Lady of Shalott. Her and her stupid robes of snowy white, loosely flying left and right.
    “Fine,” I said, snatching the topic paper out of his hands. “I’ll write it. But you have to stand up in front of the class and read it.”
    The smug expression vanished from Lance’s face. “But—”
    “You’re doing it,” I said, matching the tone he’d used with me exactly. “Or we can just flunk, for all I care.”
    He looked stricken. “I can’t get an F. Coach won’t let me play.”
    “Then give the report,” I said.
    Sinking a little deeper beneath his desk, Lance said, “Whatever,” which I—and the nerds, who turned in their seats to give each other high fives, triumphant in having secured Grendel—took to mean he agreed.
    When the bell rang, I waited until Lance had cleared the room before I followed him, so we wouldn’t have to make awkward conversation out into the hallway. I ended up exiting the classroom right behind the nerds….
    So I had a front row seat to what happened next.
    And that was that some of Lance’s friends from the football team met him outside the classroom door. Then one of them—either because he was bored, or mean, or possibly a combination of both—reached out and, as one of the nerds in front of me passed through the doorway, snatched the kid’s notebook.
    “Rick,” Skinny Neck said, in a disgusted voice. “Give it back.”
    “ Rick ,” one of Lance’s friends echoed in falsetto. “ Give it back .”
    “Get a life,” Skinny Neck said, making a grab for the notebook.
    But Rick held it high in the air, out of reach of its much shorter owner.
    “ Get a life ,” one of the other team members said, in the same falsetto. “Christ, look who’s talking.”
    The nerdy kid looked like he was about to cry. Until a hand belonging to someone taller than all the other jocks reached out and plucked the notebook from Rick’s fingers.
    “Here, Ted,” Will said to Skinny Neck, giving him back his notebook. Ted took it with trembling fingers, his gaze, as he looked up at Will, worshipful.
    “Thanks, Will,” he said.
    “No problem,” Will said to the geek. He had not once cracked a smile, and he didn’t do so now, either. To Rick, he said, “Apologize.”
    “Come on, Will,” Lance said, in an Aw-Shucks-We-Were-Just-Joshing manner. “Rick was just messing around with the kid. He—”
    Will’s voice was cold. “We talked about this,” he said. “Apologize to Ted, Rick.”
    I wasn’t a bit surprised when Rick turned to Skinny Neck and said, sounding genuinely regretful, “Sorry.”
    Because there’d been a steely note in Will’s voice that made it clear no one—not even a two-hundred-pound halfback—had better try to mess with him. Or dare to disobey one of his commands.
    Maybe it was just a quarterback thing.
    Or maybe it was something else.
    “’S all right,” Ted said. Then he and his friend darted away, disappearing into the throng jamming the hallway.
    I followed them, more slowly. Will hadn’t noticed me